Spock's Sister
by Allisonplum
Summary: The Enterprise is being attacked by Romulans, and to save the crew Spock flashes back to a lesson he learned on Earth in his youth.


by Allison Guenther

Spock sat in the dark, pupils large and eyes fixed upon the star-speckled screen before him. The silence was eerie, the bridge abandoned for the night. All lights and controls were shut down for the nine hours designated for sleep.

Standing up, Spock approached the screen and clasped his hands behind his back. This was not unusual for him; he often found himself roaming the halls unable to sleep. He especially enjoyed the quiet peace he found on the bridge, but sometimes it made him feel like an animal in the wild being hunted by a ferocious lion, a lion that killed with phasors instead of claws.

However tonight was one of the nights when the silence was welcome and Spock felt at ease. It had been a busy day and nothing felt more relaxing than releasing his usually focused mind into the open Serengeti of space, free to run and roam wherever it pleased.

It was nights like these that Spock often found himself in a trance, going back to the past days of his youth and attempting to further riddle out the vulcan he had become.

Sighing, he turned back to the cushy captains' chair and relaxed. For the first time this week, Spock fell asleep. Not a deep sleep, but the light kind. He drifted through clouds of childhood, adolescence, star-fleet academy, and friends. As stars drifted by, so did dreams of memories.

At first Spock assumed it was his own head pounding from a migraine, but as his eyes flickered open he quickly realized the high pitched siren was not that of his own head but the Enterprise on red alert.

The bridge door slid open and people immediately began to flood in. Spock sprang from the captains' chair as Kirk stepped on the bridge in his bathrobe.

"Spock, what the hell is going on in here?" Kirk demanded in his smooth yet urgent tone.

Already checking the controls, Spock relayed information to the captain. "It appears as though a foreign vessel has entered our airspace. Judging my the markings I would conclude... Romulan."

The entire bridge paused and gaped at Spock. His words hung in the air like a prophecy of doom, each man and woman thinking of the ones they loved, wondering if they'd be remembered as dying nobly.

Looking up, Spock and Kirk met gazes. Spock read his eyes, knowing the look he had seen only a few times before in his life. It meant protection. It was the face of a man who didn't want to crawl out of battle with half as many hearts beating aboard the ship as before. This was the face of a man who had to save everybody.

Locked in eye contact, Spock watched those protective eyes glow. Blue, red. Blue, red. Blue, red. Blue of their own nature, then red in the light of the alert.

In that instant, Spock was taken back. Like in his dreams, he was drawn back to earlier days of Vulcan youth. Maybe here, in the sprawling fields and rolling mountains of Vulcan, Spock could retrieve an answer for the eyes that had to save everyone.

Rumspringa- (In some Amish communities) a period of adolescence in which boys and girls are given greater personal freedom and allowed to form romantic relationships, usually ending with the choice of baptism into the church or leaving the community. (Google) Similarly in Vulcan culture, a period of independence is practiced referred to as primum liberum, translating roughly from Latin to mean first freedom. At age fifteen, the young Vulcan is sent to a foreign planet of their parents choosing, a decision in which the youth may or may not have an influence. They will remain on the given planet for one orbit of the local sun, after which they must make the decision to return to Vulcan, or continue to participate in the culture of the given foreign planet.

Of all the planets they could have chosen, it had to be Earth. And why? All because it was your mothers planet of origin. Aren't you intrigued by your roots, Spock? For your mother's sake, please, Spock. Don't make this difficult.

Spock obediently packed his clothes and technology in a large, navy blue suitcase. After an hour-long commute to the shuttlecraft station, fifteen year old Spock bid his father farewell with a stern yet respectful 'live long and prosper.' Suffering through one of the last slobbery goodbye-kisses his mother would ever inflict upon him, dripping with the human emotion he had despised so much at the time, Spock turned to board the craft.

Navy-blue suitcase clutched tightly in his lap, Spock stared out the window wide-eyed, completely oblivious to what primum liberum lied in his future.

Spock was to stay with his mother's sister on Earth in Edenton, North Carolina for the 365 days he would spend living here. His Earthling aunt picked him up from the shuttle port at 11:30 am local time.

Her name was Karen, a woman in her early fifties with brown hair and a toothy smile. She was waiting with her daughter, Spock's cousin. She was six, and her name was Hazel. She had light brown eyes and black hair with deep loose waves. The dark waves were divided into two poofy pigtails held by ties with green beads on them.

As Spock approached them, he attempted a human smile but quickly reverted to a sheepish nod. As he held up his hand to greet his aunt Karen, she pounced on him with a hug and sloppy kisses on the cheek like his mother gave him. Maybe disgusting displays of affection ran in her family.

"Oh Spock! I haven't seen you since you were this big!" She pinched her fingers together to indicate he was small.

"Brother Spoooooock!" Hazel copied her mom and gave him a big hug, but she only came up to his waist.

Aunt Karen rolled her eyes. "Hazel, Spock is your cousin, not your brother. Aunt Amanda's son, remember?"

"Oh ya, I forgot."

Unsure how to respond to Hazel's hug, Spock stared at the ceiling and patted her back. "Hello, Hazel. My mother spoke fondly of you-"

"Oh, my how you've grown! Already fourteen-"

"Fifteen, I'm fif-"

"Fifteen and out on your own, seeing Earth and everything!" Aunt Karen gushed and put her arm around Spock.

This of course made him very uncomfortable, but his mother warned him to be tolerant. She said this was another way of life, and in order to learn he had to be open to their ways.

Gripping his suitcase so tightly his fingers turned white, he reluctantly followed aunt Karen and cousin Hazel to their car.

This 365 day Earth year was destined to feel like a 60,225 day Neptune year.

The leaves blew loosely on their branches, living the last of their days as part of a greater tree.

Spock sat beneath a tree in aunt Karen's yard. He had made it through his first week on Earth, but couldn't imagine himself lasting much longer. Every act of his was pained, and desperate not to stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the people who barely even had to try to act human. He figured maybe it was their lifetime of experience that gave them the edge, however it was difficult to imagine a human could be better at anything than him.

As he struggled to compose a letter to his mother, he heard a rustle in the bushes nearby.

Ignoring it, he brainstormed ways to successfully convince his emotional human mother he wasn't as out of his element as he really was.

His mother had sent him here in hopes that Spock would get more in touch with his human side. He often forgot that while he was raised on Vulcan with a pure Vulcan father, he also had a pure human mother. Meaning he was just as human as he was Vulcan. A part of Spock never quite believed that was completely true.

The rustle in the bushes got a little louder and Spock looked up to see a bright red maple leaf being thrust into his face.

It was just Hazel. She giggled and clutched her leaf.

Plopping down next to Spock, she started talking. This confused Spock. He didn't need her for anything or ask her a question, yet she was sitting beside him under the tree, just talking.

"I found this leaf brother Spock, isn't it pretty?"

"I'm your cousin. And that is a maple leaf."

"Yup, isn't it preeeeeety?" Hazel pressed the question.

Spock looked at the leaf quizzically. He never really thought of the dead waste of a tree turning red as particularly stunning, but he knew the best way to avoid further conversation was to agree. "Yes, Hazel. It is a pretty- leaf."

This seemed to please her and she sat in silence studying her leaf for awhile. Spock tried to write more of his letter.

"I know that when I see the leaves like this all on the ground," she paused and sighed, "It means I am going back to school soon."

Spock decided he wouldn't be getting any writing done today.

What Hazel said confused him. Her voice carried the tones he associated with the human emotion of disappointment, however school was her path to build a future for herself. It was a place of attaining knowledge. She should sound hopeful and joyous. He tried to put this into words she would understand. "Hazel, you sound disappointed. Do you not enjoy school?"

"No, I do, um-" She twirled her leaf between her fingers. "It is difficult sometimes. The math worksheets, and the kids are mean to me sometimes."

This took Spock a moment to process. "You have trouble with... Math.. Worksheets..."

"Yup, I can do all the multiplications except for the nines."

"You can not count by nines?"

"Nope, I can do nine, eighteen, and then I don't know unless I write it all down."

Spock knew that she probably was seeking some kind of reassurance. His mother did this when she was worried about some upcoming event. She always just wanted you to tell her you could do something and it would all work out alright. "Well, aunt Karen and I both know multiplication. That is something we can work on."

"And you'll teach me my nines brother Spock?"

"Yes, I will teach you your nines."

"Ok, thank you!"

Spock began to pack up his papers, but paused. "And, I am not your brother, Hazel. I am your cousin."

"Ok, I forgot."

The maple leaves on the ground were turning brown and the smell of fall had completely taken over the air now. Some yellow trees were still brightly showing off for the last time before the winter winds blew them off their branches for good.

Hazel skipped ahead of aunt Karen and Spock as they walked her the five blocks to the first day of school this year. She held onto the straps of her blue backpack as she bounded along. She seemed awfully excited for someone who didn't know her nines. When they reached the school grounds she practically ran through the door.

"Have a great day pumpkin, I love you soooo much!" Aunt Karen called after her, waving.

Hazel held up her hand with her fingers parted between the middle and ring finger as she called, "Live long and prosper, big brother!" Spock was beginning to regret having taught her that one.

"Goodbye, Hazel." Spock watcher her turn around and wave one last time before disappearing into the crowd of multicolored backpacks and light-up sneakers.

Since the school year started for Hazel, the past week had been very quiet. Aunt Karen had insisted Spock go out and try to make friends. She wanted him to meet people to give him the true 'Earth' experience while he was here. "You can't just stay inside all day, Spock honey. It seems like little Hazel is your only friend!"

Spock just sighed and wrote in his notebook. He simply wrote what happened to him in a day, and it was beginning to feel monotonous. The idea of Hazel being his friend had Spock a little lost, because he didn't know how a friend would feel. It was difficult to say. But he was open to the idea, he reminded himself of what his mother said.

Some days he would take walks outside, simply to have something to do. Some days, he would walk to the small schoolhouse at three o'clock to walk Hazel home. Aunt Karen loved it when he did that. In a way, Spock enjoyed it too. (It gave him a sense of purpose.)

Today he walked to the schoolhouse and stood outside, waiting for Hazel. At three o'clock the school bell rang out from the tower high on the roof of the little red building. Little feet in sneakers trampled out through the doors, and soon enough, there was Hazel. She smiled a toothy grin like she always did when he came and shouted out to her friends, "That's my big brother Spock!"

He sighed and reminded her once more that he was her cousin, Aunt Amanda's son. Not her brother.

She just smiled and said ok like always. She was just proud to have someone cool like Spock to pick her up from school in front of all her friends.

The next few weeks went by like this, and in this time Spock took to wandering around the beach during the day. Some days he met autumn joggers, and some days it was just him watching the water. He would gaze out and imagine early planes and the birth of aviation.

It amazed Spock that his people had been slowly revising and perfecting flight for centuries, slowly and logically so as not to crash along the way. Man had begun skimming only yards above the water in the Wright flyer less than 150 years ago, and now they were amongst the stars. In this very spot, the humans began their ascent that would one day take them beyond the small bubble of Earth's atmosphere that had contained them every second of their existence until flight. They had broken through the barrier of their own atmosphere like a baby chick out of an egg, and all for one silly, stupid little reason that had held the Vulcans back all those years. The humans allowed themselves to crash.

While generations of Vulcans ran equations and resisted the clouds until perfection was found on the ground, the humans leapt and plummeted back to the earth until their wings finally were strong enough.

After an hour of sitting by the waves pondering flight, Spock mingled back to the little school house to meet Hazel.

He spotted her bright smile at once, but something seemed a little different. She hopped up to Spock and her words sounded almost like squeaks. "Let's go home, big brother." She smiled briefly at him then looked at the gravel on the ground as they began walking.

Hazel walked a few feet apart from Spock, since he'd told her in the past that he didn't care for holding hands or anything like that. This disappointed her, but she respected his preference in her simple way.

Spock noticed that Hazel's little brown eyes were glued to the ground, which seemed suspicious to him. Her behavior on the walk home usually consisted of a bubbly smile, giggles, and chit-chat about what a great day it was or what butterfly was the best. It was silly and very human Spock knew, but he didn't mind so much anymore. It just seemed less complicated to live this way. As much as he would never admit it, he was somewhat enjoying what it was to be human here. It was smaller, but comforting. Less complicated.

Finally Spock stopped and so did Hazel. "Hazel, look at me."

She stared at the ground.

"Hazel, look up in the light. I need to see your face."

She slowly tilted her chin up to meet Spock's eyes. Spock was met by a sweet little face blotched with a big brown bruise by the right eye. Her eyes quickly squinted shut and she looked back to the ground as she began to sob big hiccupy tears.

Spock was taken aback; he had no idea what to do. This was the first time he had ever been confronted by a crying human. He thought back to his childhood, whenever a kid hit him. His mother would put her arm around him. He never knew why she did that; it never made anything better. But, he figured maybe it was the human thing to do.

He squatted down beside Hazel and wrapped his arm around her little trembling shoulders. "Who did this to you Hazel?" Spock asked.

She just sobbed and held her little clenched fists over her eyes. After a minute, she looked up. Her eyes were all pink and puffy from crying now on top of having the bruise. She pipped in a small voice, "Some kids at school."

This sent thoughts spinning in his head. Whenever Spock had been hit in the past by kids at school it was to get information from him, or take something from him for their own personal benefit. What knowledge anyone could want to get out of a little girl like Hazel was beyond him.

"Do you know why they would hit you Hazel? Were they asking for anything? Did they want you to tell them something?"

She sniffled and clutched her lunch box close to her chest. "No, they just said-" She broke back into little sobs.

This was tiring to Spock, but he knew if he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery he would have to be patient. "What did they say?"

"They said... They said I was weird, and that I don't deserve a cool Vulcan alien for a brother!" She squatted down and put her head between her knees. Her hiccuping sobs were louder that ever now.

At this point Spock really did not know what the logical reaction should be. He concluded it would be best to let aunt Karen take it from here. "Come on," he said, patting her back a little. "Let's go home."

The next few days, Hazel seemed better. Aunt Karen had bought Hazel a stuffed rabbit to try and lift her spirits and it had worked nicely. However Hazel still wouldn't spill the names of her attackers.

Every time they asked her, she would just stare at the floor and say she wouldn't tell. She wouldn't tell Karen or Spock why, but the kids told her if she told anyone then they would hurt Spock. She knew she didn't want anybody hurting her big brother. Even if he was really her cousin.

Now it was a new week though, and the incident seemed to be in the past. Hazel skipped up the steps to the little school house and disappeared into the sea of backpacks with her stuffed rabbit like nothing had ever happened. Her bruise was almost completely gone, and Karen had told the teachers to keep a close eye out for Hazel.

The day seemed to fly by, and Spock spent the time helping aunt Karen address and mail letters to friends. It was somewhat therapeutic he found. (Putting stickers on envelopes.) Finally, three o'clock rolled around and Spock was waiting once again for Hazel outside the school house. Today Hazel was the first to emerge from the doors before the sneaker flood began. She ran to Spock. No smile today, just pink eyes. He knew she'd been crying. "Hazel," he pried. "What have those kids done to you?"

She sniffled but couldn't manage to form any words. She just held out her empty arms and shook her head sadly before the tears began down her cheeks. "My bunny," she said between heavy little breaths.

Spock remembered the rabbit aunt Karen had gotten her, but didn't understand what it had to do with anything. Then he remembered, she had had the rabbit this morning, and now her outstretched arms were empty and she was crying. He put two and two together. These kids had taken her rabbit, and were moving to the next level of relentless bullying. Spock himself didn't understand emotional attachments to stuffed toys, but he knew unjustified stealing wouldn't stand according to his values. "Hazel, you need to go take back what is yours. Where are these kids? You must confront them."

Big salty drops rolled down her cheeks. "They're already gone. Their moms pick them up right after- after school." Big sobs and red cheeks.

Spock crouched down to her level. "Hazel, tomorrow you are going to find these kids and demand they give back that rabbit. It is yours and they have no right to it whatsoever. Hazel? Do you understand?"

She wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded, but still looked melancholy as ever. That night was a restless one for her. All she could think about was how scared she was to ask for her bunny back. But she didn't want to disappoint Spock, and she knew he was right. Those kids were just jealous of her, and that is no good reason to take someone's bunny away from them.

The next morning, Hazel didn't skip up to the doors like usual. Today she schlepped her blue lunchbox behind her and dragged her sneakers along the gravel. She reluctantly waved goodbye to Spock as the doors drifted shut behind her, like the cage gate on a puppy going to the pound.

Today seemed longer, and the postage stamps didn't fly onto the letters as easily as they had yesterday. When the hands of the clock stood at a right angle on the three and the twelve, Spock was at the doors of the schoolhouse once more.

The doors sprung open promptly at three, and the sea of sneakers and backpacks and lunch boxes flooded out the door as usual. However, Hazels smiling face wasn't among them. Spock waited.

3:02, still no Hazel. Spock waited. 3:05, still no Hazel. Still Spock waited. Soon it was ten after and the last of the sneakers had tapped off down the gravel path. Spock began to walk slowly around the building, looking for someone to ask about Hazel's whereabouts.

No adults were to be found outside, and Spock knew he wasn't aloud inside without advanced notice and an ID sticker unless he was a parent. Aunt Karen had told him this when Hazel had tried to bring Spock in for show-and-tell.

The fall leaves rustled in the trees as Spock continued his counter-clockwise route around the schoolhouse's perimeter.

He began to hear faint murmuring around the next corner. It sounded like it was coming from the playground behind the school. Spock sped up his pace. The murmuring grew louder as he grew closer to the corner until he could make out the voices of Hazel and two other boys.

He could hear Hazel's soft voice, saying something about her stuffed bunny. Then the voices of the boys, mean and loud; "Go home stupid freak! We're gonna keep your stupid bunny forever!" "Ya, you're such a weirdo! A freak like you doesn't deserve a cool brother with pointy ears!"

Hazel's trembling voice once more, trying to stay strong; "Give my bunny back! Please! You guys don't have any use for him, and I didn't do anything to you! Please just give me my bunny back!"

This made Spock feel almost proud of Hazel for taking his advice and being assertive.

Hazels words were followed by the snarky retort of one of the boys. "Shut up and go home stupid!" Then a loud smack sounded followed by an abrupt yelp from Hazel.

Just as this happened Spock rounded the corner, a feeling welling up within him that could only be described as human anger. Spock would never admit there was a time he was proud to have let his human side get the better of him, but secretly, this moment he would never have changed even if he could go back.

He strode directly up to the boys and shoved them off of Hazel and to the ground, hard. His voice trembled with the strength of his anger; "If you EVER touch my little sister again, I swear!" The boys looked terrified, and quickly dropped the stuffed bunny to the ground and sped off around the corner to go home and hide.

Spock picked up the bunny and handed it to Hazel, and helped her to her feet. "I'm your sister?" Hazel said hopefully, hugging her bunny close.

Spock just smiled. A very small, hidden-emotion smile, but a smile just the same. Then he took her hand and said, "Let's go home." They held hands the whole way.

After returning to Vulcan, Spock realized he had learned a lesson during his primum liberum. He had learned the power that comes with protecting something that matters to you, like a little sister. He also learned the power and protection that came with fear. Those boys never messed with Hazel again, and they spread the word too. 'Nobody mess with Hazel, or her cool big brother is gonna come after you! If her brother is tough, imagine how tough she's gonna be! She could probably punch a hole through somebody if she wanted to!'

And it was this lesson that Spock recalled as he slipped away to the transporter room, and carefully setting coordinates, beamed himself aboard the enemy Romulan ship. This was a huge risk, but Spock knew the Enterprise on red alert alone wasn't enough to win this battle.

He appeared on the bridge of the ship in enemy territory with nothing but a phasor in hand, set to kill. Facing seven top-ranking Romulan officers plus Nero himself, the odds didn't look good.

Nero wheeled his chair around to face Spock. His crazed eyes met Spock's and he yelled louder than a fog horn, "KILL HIM NOW!"

Seven tattooed heads turned and as quickly as they laid eyes on Spock they were expertly shot in the heart one by one before a single one had time to react.

Like the Clint Eastwood of space, Spock brought them all to the ground until none were left standing but Nero.

Then, like that day by the schoolhouse, Spock strode directly up to Nero and grabbed his shirt collar, Jamming the phasor to his left temple. "If you EVER attack my captain's ship again, I swear!" He let go and took a few steps back.

Still pointing his phasor, Spock glared at Nero. "I could just as easily have killed you too. Tell everyone you know. And get away from my ship, NOW!" With that Spock was beamed back to the Enterprise. Scotty had only just figured out Spock's risky move and was attempting to fix it before it was too late.

Spock had figured this would happen, and allowed himself to be pulled back to the ship. Nero turned tail and fled back to Romulan airspace, never to challenge the Enterprise again.

And the word did spread. 'Never mess with the Enterprise. They will send their psychotic Vulcan on you; he'll shoot you before you can say phasor!' When the Enterprise flew by, Romulan ships tended to turn the other way. The protection of striking fear into another was powerful indeed.

Seconds later, Spock arrived back on the bridge to hear the captain's startled announcement. "They're gone. They've retreated completely." His eyes met Spock's. "What did you do?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I only scared them a little, Captain."

At that Kirk smiled and ordered, "Set her back on course, we've got a five year mission to complete."

"Yes sir," everyone replied.

Spock returned to his science officers' chair, and prepared for whatever mission lied ahead.

The End


End file.
